


And Then You Forgot

by UntemperedSchism



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Light Angst, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:12:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1584587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UntemperedSchism/pseuds/UntemperedSchism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donna remembers strange faces, faraway lands, and a skinny bloke in pinstripes. Unfortunately, her dreams are starting to become visions that interrupt her everyday life. A one-shot of Donna Noble after losing her memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Then You Forgot

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place between Journey's End and The End of Time. (It was also written during that time period, and I was glad when the story still worked as an insertion, even after EoT aired!)

Donna Noble was having dreams again.

She had heard of some of her mates having some pretty messed up dreams themselves, but those were usually after late nights with plenty of alcohol involved. She, however, had not even the slightest drop of any hallucinogen within her system when such reveries occurred. In addition, whilst her friends had those dreams where someone close to them dies or where they suddenly appear naked in front of all their co-workers, Donna had dreams about faraway places, strange-looking people, and a blue box that could travel in time and space.

Talk about being a complete and total nutter.

If she didn’t already feel enough like she was going bonkers, Donna’s dreams were accompanied, at times, by a strange man with impossible hair that seemed to wear nothing but suits of navy blue or brown pinstripes. Those converse trainers were also ever-present, and from time to time, she caught of spot of some glasses she had a feeling he only used to make himself look more clever. But this man, as random-seeming as he was, seemed awfully comforting to her dreamscapes.

Donna had no idea where she could have come up with such a character. After all, this man in her dreams was certainly not the man _of_ her dreams. Such a skinny stick he was! A thin piece of nothing! What could anyone honestly expect her to do with _that_ besides maybe land herself with a paper cut by touching him? She knew he wasn’t the type for her to gawk at or stare after, but the feelings he left her with made her restless and bewildered. He seemed important somehow, but she couldn’t quite place her finger on it. Every time she thought about him, thought about those things of which she dreamed, Donna just couldn’t _remember_.

Such dreams occurred, perhaps, only time to time, maybe once a month or so - but that was at first, when the dreams had started a little before Christmas last year. Now, these dreams were played out in her mind much more often, at least once a week or even more, random snippets as though from a life her mind had created, or perhaps from a life her mind had _forgotten_. But that didn’t make sense, did it? Something she had forgotten? Why, that was utter nonsense! All those dreams, all those random clips she got from a life she never had – how could she possibly have lived those things and not remembered them?

Donna Noble decided at last to attribute these random happenstances to the new Chinese place around the corner that she had lately begun to frequent. Her mother had thought it looked awfully unsettling anyway, so why not? Despite her dreams not decelerating after she ceased her visits to the restaurant, Donna ignored any possibility that the dreams might indeed be _real_. She settled on, in the end, the fact that she had gone slightly loony, though only ‘slightly’ at best.

* * *

It was setting in on early autumn when Donna Noble landed her first solid job as a secretary at the G.C.S. Hartwell’s, Inc. Temping had finally gotten to her, and Donna was looking for something much more permanent. The reaction her mother, Sylvia, gave her made Donna proud, perhaps because it felt like one of the first times that Donna had actually done anything right in her lifetime. Her grandfather, Wilf, though supportive, certainly gave the impression that he was less enthused, but perhaps that was because he was a little more eager to return to ‘the hill,’ as Sylvia referred to it less-than-lovingly. He seemed to go there more often as the year went on, something Donna questioned, but dismissed. She had a purpose in her life now, and perhaps following her grandfather around as she had done as a teenager and young adult was something of which she had finally out-grown.

Despite the fact, Sylvia and Wilf took Donna out for a nice dinner in celebration of her new job. Donna was overjoyed to do so, as the family did things of the like in an occasion that occurred way too little and far between. Whilst they were waiting for their meals to arrive, however, Donna found herself with her mind wandering. Sylvia and Wilf were arguing slightly, though in low voices as not to disrupt those around them, and Donna had learned years before (at least since her father had passed away) that the best things to do in such times were to ignore the father/daughter duo.

“Dad, she just got herself a _job_ , a real nice and proper job. Why can’t you be a little more… _happy_ for her?”

“Because all you’ve done for the last however many years of her life is push her to be somethin’ that you want! Don’t you know how much happier she’d be if she just went her own way?”

“Well, she’s obviously content now, or she wouldn’t be so excited about this new job!”

“All I’m sayin’ is that you two are constantly havin’ it out over _somethin’_. How do you know this is really what she wants?”

“Dad, we’re in a _restaurant_. People are starin’!”

Donna, however, did not see the people (who were not quite staring as much as Sylvia had implied), nor did she pay attention to the rest of the little dispute between the two. She had just had a dream the night before, one involving strange creatures that beheld a small white orb in their hands that lit upon their speaking, and they had eyes so sad, deep sorrow of those in bondage and oppressed. Though slightly repulsed by their appearance, Donna’s heart instantly went out to these nameless, assumingly fantasy creatures that her own mind had conjured.

Unbidden, a voice came into her mind, pure and beautiful. She jerked slightly, surprised by the song that filled her senses. She closed her eyes unwittingly, feeling emotions run through her in response to this Song of Captivity. It grew louder and louder, crescendoing not only in volume, but in sensation as well. When at last Donna felt she could take it no longer, she jolted again, eyes popping wide open.

The argument had ceased, and both Sylvia and Wilf were looking at her concernedly. Donna mumbled something unintelligible and excused herself to the lady’s room. She hurried through the restaurant, ignoring the curious glances that others cast her. As she at last reached the bathroom after what seemed an eternity, Donna locked herself in a stall and cried, tears pouring down her face as she fought to hold back the wracking sobs that struggled to burst forth. For how long, she didn’t know, but she knew that emotions poured through her, and all in response to that song.

Donna Noble was not only having dreams of a strange man, creatures, and faraway lands, but now they were invading her everyday life as well.

* * *

It was setting in on late autumn when Donna Noble went to the library to make copies for her boss because their machine was down again at the office. She always had an odd shiver when she went to the library, like those funny feelings she got when she saw books by Agatha Christie, pictures of volcanoes erupting, or men wearing pinstripe suits like that skinny bloke from her dreams.

Despite the random misgivings the place gave her, Donna made her way up the stairs and to the copy room that was available for use by the public. She had a purse full of money and a forced mind-set of patience, as she knew that the papers in the manila folder he had given her were sure to take a long time to duplicate. She settled into the copy room for a long afternoon of mind-dulling paper copying, doing her numbing job with great boredom, but doing it well.

The monotonous humming of the copying machine seemed to pull Donna from reality, and she was only brought back into it as she caught glimpse of a person walking past the doorway. She walked curiously to the door, and saw someone turn the corner just ahead, catching no more than a glimpse of a woman’s blonde hair swaying behind her as she continued on her way. For reasons unknown to her, Donna sprinted forward, leaving her work behind so as to chase after the blonde. As she caught up to her, the woman spun around, giving Donna a strange look.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Donna said, confusion crossing over her features as the blonde glared at her. “You just looked like – well, you just looked like someone I thought I knew. S’pose I was wrong then. Sorry.” The woman gazed Donna over, and with a slight huff, turned and walked away wordlessly. Donna felt let down, somehow, and went back to the copy room to resume the job for which she had come.

She certainly felt foolish, chasing after the woman like that, and knew somehow that she wasn’t the right one. But that was strange in and of itself, right? _The right one?_ What was that supposed to even _mean_? Since when did she have a blonde friend that looked like that? Like that one that was in her dreams, leaning over her and whispering the words ‘Bad Wolf’ into her ear, as though they were some important, end-of-the-world-typed warning. This was just another one of those dream ramblings coming to play in her life again, and Donna was beginning to wonder if this was ever going to end.

Forcing herself to laugh, she turned back to the copier and finished up the last few copies that she was to make. Yes, she was just being absurd. She had no idea what this was all about, really, and it needed to end soon. Maybe she would look into going to a psychologist or something, if her insurance would properly cover the visits. She felt like a nutter alright, needing to go to someone that would just listen to her talk on about dreams with strange-looking aliens and a blonde and a dark-skinned woman and a man who couldn’t die – despite however incredibly _handsome_ he was – and other places, other _planets_ and that one man, oh that man…

Donna gathered the papers all together, realizing that she had been daft not to bring something like a box to put the whole set in. She made a rather large stack instead, and carefully hoisted the bundle into her arms. She left the copier room, making for the stairs, still considering the option of going to see a counselor or something - anything to take away these strange ideas, these strange memories. Even the more ‘normal’ ones, like where she was with that slim fellow in a window-washer getup, and he was lowering them down with a little small gadget thing of his. Now that was much more normal – strange to dream about, but more normal than some of the _other_ things she had dreamt of.

The dream hadn’t ended there, but continued to a part where someone above had snapped the wires holding them up, and then suddenly she was falling down… and _oh…_

Donna found that she had indeed tripped on the stair below her, misplacing her step and tumbling forward. The papers left her arms and landed themselves in an awfully messy heap just below, with strays fluttering side to side. Donna had only had two stairs left anyway, so nothing much more than her pride was hurt in the process of falling as she had reached the ground floor.

A few nearby people came to her assistance, and Donna allowed them to help her, hurriedly trying to recollect all the papers in a new bundle, not wanting to bother with putting them in their correct order again for the time being. She managed a couple of words of gratitude to those that helped her, and practically fled from the library.

Despite not knowing why she was bothered by going to the library itself, Donna Noble knew that something was off about this whole mess. She just couldn’t put a finger on _what_ exactly it was.

* * *

It was setting in on early winter when Donna Noble woke up late one morning, a weekday no less, and found herself having to hurry greatly to leave for her job. Matters were only made worse when she went to the kitchen to grab the keys for the car, only to find a note from her mother on the counter about how she was going out that day with her girlfriends. Groaning as she fled out from the back door, Donna was definitely bothered with having to mess with the public transportation system, especially since the day had already started out _so_ well.

As she made her way quickly down the pavement towards the bus stop, Donna fervently hoped that she wouldn’t be late for it. She had already missed the bus that was the nearest to her house, and had no time to wait for the next one – so she had to travel down a ways to catch a different route, that hopefully would get her to work just on time. She was feeling rather moody, and realized she hadn’t taken her newly-acquired medication in her rush.

She certainly hated to admit it, but Donna had at last realized that this going about with a so-called memory of a life that she had seemingly forgotten was not the way she wanted to live any longer. After all, it was affecting everything about her, the way she thought, the way she acted… and sometimes, it was getting her in a great spot of trouble. She had been caught daydreaming at work, seen jolting out of reveries in shops, and even heard murmuring things in her sleep one night as Sylvia had been taking a trip to the kitchen for a late-night cup of tea.

Donna wasn’t the type to believe that medication was the answer to everything, but after weeks of therapy certainly not helping, she had consented to going to the psychiatrist that her counselor had referred her to. The medication did help, yes, to slow her mind and make the dreams less frequent – but that didn’t mean that they ceased altogether. It was as though these dreams were more poignant than they thought, and even the psychiatrist was a bit baffled by the idea.

Donna was not in the least bit pleased that this little issue was not getting better, especially as it had been almost a year since she had begun to have such thoughts. It was incredibly discouraging that not even someone who should be able to figure out what little games her mind was playing on her had been able to solve her dilemma.

But those thoughts were for another time, as Donna was late to work, and she had a bus to catch. Something was nagging at her mind again, and she fought to ignore it. After all, she didn’t know what any of this _meant_ , what any of this _was_. She was just forgetting, not remembering… whatever you wanted to call it. Tricky thing, memory was. Donna was suffering the consequences of something she didn’t even know had happened, and she had almost a year’s worth of memories, including a bit more from the Christmas years ago, that she had managed to somehow skip over.

Donna crossed her arms after pushing the button at the crosswalk, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for the traffic lights to change so she could make her way to the bus stop that was just across the street now. At least the bus wasn’t there yet, as it never seemed to arrive early. She reached up with her fingertips to rub at her temples, the beginning of a killer headache beginning to settle in. She wondered if she would ever be normal again, if she could ever even be able to date, to get married, and to have children. Should someone who was having random and outrageous visions like this even _have_ children?

She felt little hands tugging the bottom hem of her shirt and looked down, seeing a little boy and a little girl grinning at her. She held both of their hands, allowing them to pull her along to the living room, where she saw their visitor sitting down. She smiled lovingly at them as they began to dart around her, initiating a game of tag. She tried to tell them to stop running around the house, just as she had told them uncountable times before, but she was feeling tired, oh so tired today.

“Can I just say, what a pleasure it is to see you fully integrated?” the dark-skinned man in a suit said smiling.

Donna looked up, forcing a smile herself in return. She had a feeling she was about to show the man to the door, this… Doctor Moon.

Doctor Moon stood there, as though waiting to be seen out. Then, much to Donna’s surprise, the man himself wavered, as though just a holographic image, and was replaced with another man, the tall skinny one from her dreams, muttering something about a signal from the moon. He had his own look of shock as he took her in, and Donna felt the strangest rush of familiarity.

“Donna!”

The image wavered again, and was replaced once more by Doctor Moon. He put a hand to his stomach, smiling apologetically at her, giving some excuse about rhubarb pie that flew past her ears as she backed up in shock. She sank down into a seat, looking at him strangely.

“The Doctor,” Donna said, panting as though out of breath. She was surprised at the title that escaped her lips, but it seemed so natural. “I saw the Doctor.”

Doctor Moon smiled, almost sadly. “Yes, you did, Donna. And then you forgot.”

A car horn blared, and Donna jumped. Looking around, she realized she was alone and already on the crosswalk. Turning her head to the left, she took in the angry driver that was waiting for her to finish crossing: she had stopped dead in front of him, right in the middle of the street. He shook his fist at her, then waved her on impatiently, blasting his horn once more, a long shrill tone filling her already-pounding head.

“Oi!” she said, shouting back at him. “I’m movin’, I’m movin’! And you just watch it, mister, you could bleed someone’s ears out with that thing!”

Donna continued on across the street, joining the others that were boarding the now-present bus. She flashed her bus pass, and then she made her way down the aisle, taking her seat across from some shady-looking man that eyed her as though silently pleading for help.

“Yeah, well, if I had any money, you’d be the first to know,” Donna half-heartedly snapped at him. Tired, despite it being early morning, she slumped in the bus seat and stared out the window, pressing her forehead against the glass. So the medication wasn’t working, and she wasn’t exactly pleased about that. What was she supposed to do now? All these thoughts, all this weight were pressing down on her, all these random images, sights, sounds, and emotions trying to invade her everyday life. She could have gotten run over, for goodness’ sakes.

Donna thought back to the last vision that had come across her as she had started across the crosswalk. Did it have any significance? That man had been there yet again, trying to find her, and he _knew_ her. And she had known him, which was even _more_ important. She tried to remember what she had called him, the title that had come so eagerly to her lips. She tried to think what this man had been to her, and what all these dreams were, if they weren’t dreams.

Donna Noble tried to remember what was that life that she had lived, that life that had seemed so familiar and comforting, as though it had changed her and made her happier than anything she had ever had before. She was close, so close, just on the brink of discovery…

But then, she forgot.


End file.
